No One Can Hurt You Now
by DownInTheDirt
Summary: 'Drunk or not drunk, he was there when she needed him. Most of the time, anyway.' - Will Haymitch be there for Effie when she needs him most? She was irritating, a nag, and she hardly ever shut up, but Haymitch still felt something for her. He just didn't know what it was! Please review! It's my first Hayffie fanfic! Rated M for later chapters.
1. One - Haymitch

**Author's Note:- Hi guys! I know, I know, another new story, when I should really be updating my other ones! I really couldn't resist this one. My Hayffie obsession demanded me to write this story.**

**I will try and be a little better with updates, I promise! I've written three chapters of this in advance, but I plan to leave a few days between uploads, so in those days, I can write more, and hopefully it'll keep us going for a while!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters, and I never will. They belong to the inspirational Suzanne Collins!**

Contrary to popular belief, pacing did not make time go faster. If anything, pacing made time grind to a halt, but people still did it. Why he was doing it, despite knowing that it would achieve nothing, was beyond him.

Haymitch had never liked Effie...well not romantically, anyway. He tolerated her for close to ten years, and she sure as hell didn't make it straightforward; what with all the nagging and the obsessive compulsive behaviour, it was enough to drive anyone insane.

But still, that didn't stop him from being here now. It didn't stop him from pacing the hospital corridor, apprehensively awaiting news on her condition. Effie had been found in the early hours of that morning, imprisoned in what could only be described as a torture chamber.

From what he had been told, Effie had been suffering physical, emotional and sexual abuse for months, and she was in pretty bad shape. It didn't shock him. The Capitol was capable of anything, and if they had to, they would torture their own residents for information. Not that Effie would reveal anything to them. She was stronger than that.

"Mr. Abernathy?" The voice made him jump. About bloody time! They had no excuse to keep him waiting so long; there was no one else here!

Effie didn't have any family left, and her Capitol 'friends' were more like acquaintances, who didn't care much beyond what dresses they were going to buy in the sales, or what nail polish colour was currently in style. Haymitch was the only real friend she had.

Drunk or not drunk, he was there when she needed him. Most of the time, anyway.

This was one of those times.

"Well I haven't changed my name in the past four hours that you've bloody well kept me waiting." He snapped.

He was badly craving a drink, but he promised himself that he wouldn't leave until he'd seen her, even if it was only for five minutes. After an hour, the alcohol withdrawal had begun to make him feel sick, and his mood had deteriorated from there.

So by now, it was only natural for him to be surly. The healer who had greeted him was young, barely out of medical school, it appeared. He'd clearly had no familiarity with impatient members of the public.

Well he had to learn sometime.

"You can see her now..." He replied, his voice shaking as he pointed to the room that he had just left. Haymitch grumbled and made his way to the door.

His anger faded as soon as he saw her, and it was replaced with a dull ache. The ache that one got when they saw someone close to them so vulnerable, and not being able to do a thing to help them.

Effie was attached to every machine under the sun: oxygen, a heart monitor, an IV, providing her with the nutrients that she had lacked during her imprisonment. She was covered in scars, wounds that had been stitched, and she appeared to have lost at least twenty pounds – the hospital gown she was wearing hung off her. Despite all of this, she still looked...beautiful.

She was completely natural.

No makeup caked over her pale face, no wig covering her long, wavy golden blonde hair. She looked so much better without the wig and the cosmetic crap all over her face.

He took the seat next to her and took her hand, squeezing only enough to let her know that he was there. Not that it mattered, she was fast asleep; or drugged up to her eyeballs with painkillers.

Either way, she wasn't conscious.

He stared at her for the longest time, drifting in and out of his thoughts. Not for the first time, he blamed himself for what happened to Effie. He should have told her to get the hell out of the Capitol. He should have told her to get somewhere safe...but everything had happened so fast.

One minute she was there, and the next she was gone, and no one knew where she went.

"Hey, Princess..." He spoke softly to her. Maybe she could hear him. He hoped she could hear him. He had so much to say to her. He had so many things to apologise for.

He didn't even know where to start.

"I haven't had a drink in...hours...so this'll be the most sober you've ever known me...so enjoy it."

He smirked to himself. He felt like an idiot, talking to himself, but he didn't want to sit in complete silence. Normally Effie talked enough for both of them, but now there was only him.

"So you know I'm not good at talking about feelings and stuff...so don't expect anything fancy. I guess I just wanted to say that I'm sorry...for not being there for you when I should have been. I should have protected you, but I'm not going to lie...me being the insensitive jerk that I am, I cared more about liquor than I did about you. It sounds awful, I know, but it's true. I guess me being here now won't make up for it, but I'm just glad you're alive. You're alright, you know, for a nag..." He chuckled to himself. "I guess I just didn't know what I had until it was gone...when you disappeared I felt like I'd lost one of my only friends...because I had."

He paused, realising he had rambled too much. He touched his lips to her hand, and stood. He really needed a drink now.

"I'll be back tomorrow, Eff. I promise."

-x-

Haymitch was as good as his word. He showed up every single day for the next week. Yes, he'd had a few drinks beforehand, and he wasn't always sober; but he wasn't perfect. He wasn't so drunk that he couldn't stand up. He'd have been thrown out otherwise.

On the morning of the eighth day, he made his way down the hospital corridors, a bunch of flowers clutched in his left hand. He didn't know for the life of him what kind they were. Lillies, probably. He'd been rather pissed when he bought them. He just hoped that Effie would be awake to see them this time.

When he visited, she was always under some sort of sedative or pain medication, and he hadn't seen her eyes open. He still talked to her though. And at one point, he swore she squeezed his hand.

Today through, as he reached the ward that Effie was on, he knew immediately that things weren't right. Effie's usually silent room wasn't silent this time. Nurses and doctors pushed their way inside to tend to a screaming, terrified Effie.

Without even pausing to think about it, Haymitch ran, full speed to her door.

Effie was being pinned to her bed by three nurses, as she shrieked in terror and tried to throw off the two women and man she believed to be attackers. She was naked from the waist down, lying on her tummy as the nurses practically sat on her to keep her still.

The male, who Haymitch had thought was a nurse, was actually a doctor, and he held a needle in one hand.

"LEAVE HER!" Haymitch snapped, and Effie's head turned towards him at the sound of his voice. "LEAVE HER ALONE!"

The arguments and heated demands between the nurses and doctor stopped, but Effie was still screaming and howling, desperately trying to get away from them. She looked feral, from all of her time locked away without any human interaction, unless being beaten counted. It didn't.

She had a look in her eyes that Haymitch had never seen before. One that showed she had lost control. Lost control of everything around her.

Tears streaming down her face, Effie reached her hand towards Haymitch, giving him a pleading look that made his heart twinge. Though she was sobbing, he knew what she was trying to say by the gesture: _Please. Please help me._

But he didn't move. He couldn't. He didn't know what to do.

"Now, Doctor Parriss!" One of the nurses, who had managed to keep Effie's other arm still, shouted. The doctor inserted the needle, filled with a clear liquid, into Effie's right buttock, and pushed the plunger. Effie's sobbing slowly stopped, and her body fell limp. Her eyes were still on Haymitch as they closed, slowly, and her breathing steadied to a normal rate.

The nurses and doctor released their restraint on her, (only when they were sure that she wasn't going to fight them again), and left the room. Doctor Parriss muttered to Haymitch as he passed.

"If it comforts you any, she won't remember this when she wakes up."

It didn't comfort him. At all.

He'd only just realised that he was shaking with rage. Rage at them. Rage at the system in general. Was that really the way to calm their patients? Drug them because they can't be bothered to spend the time reassuring them?

A sudden guilt overwhelmed him too. She had wanted him to hold her hand. She had wanted his touch. But he had done nothing.

He walked over to the chair beside Effie's bed, taking her limp hand into his own, holding it as she slept.

"I'm here, Princess. I'm right here."

-x-x-

"Haymitch?" Her weak voice alerted him immediately.

He hadn't let go of Effie's hand since she had been knocked out with those damn drugs, and he must have dozed off in the chair. His neck was aching like crazy; but that was the least of his worries.

He was just so happy to hear her voice.

"Still alive then, sweetheart?" He chuckled, momentarily letting go of Effie's hand as she rolled onto her back. He'd covered her with a blanket just after she went to sleep, as she was wearing nothing on her bottom half.

Most of the machines that she had been attached to were gone now. She only needed an IV drip to keep her hydrated. At least that was some good news.

"You stayed..." She replied, weakly, after almost five minutes of silence. Haymitch had just assumed she wasn't up to talking, so the comment caught him completely off guard.

"Of course I stayed, Eff." A smirk played on his lips. "It would be bad manners if I didn't, wouldn't it?" He sighed, taking her hand again. To his relief, she didn't pull it away. "I've missed your nagging."

"Why did you come?" Effie whispered, not looking at him. "I thought you hated me."

"I've never hated you, Effie. I've found you annoying, yes. But I've never hated you." He frowned, trying to work out where she'd gotten that idea from. From the way he behaved when he was drunk, most likely.

"You told me you hated me the last time I saw you. You said 'I hate you prissy Capitol lot. I hate all of them, and I hate you for being one of them.'" Haymitch's heart sank into his stomach. He had no memory of this conversation, but being the sober one, Effie's memory was more reliable than his.

"I was drunk...I didn't know what I was saying."

"Well it must have been true. We all know you're incapable of lying when you're drunk." She muttered, pulling her hand away from his.

"It's different when I'm drunk _and _angry, Effie. It's not a good combination. I was angry at President Snow and his supporters...not at you. I should have made that clear."

"Yes, you should."

They sat in silence, for a while. Haymitch was silently cursing himself inside his head. Effie remembered everything. Every little detail; and he should have learned by now not to say things he'd regret, drunk or not drunk.

"You look nice..." He said, stupidly. Maybe complimenting her would relieve her anger at him a little. Effie raised an eyebrow, and turned her face towards him. Her forehead was bruised and she had a split lip that wasn't quite done healing.

"No I don't." She sighed, dismally. Nice one, Haymitch. He was making things worse.

"Well you do...you know...without the wig and the makeup...the natural look suits you."

Effie simply shrugged. Her expression had softened a little, so maybe she would forgive him. Or try, at least.

"I've always felt ugly when I'm natural. Maybe that's why I covered it up all those years." This statement astonished him. Effie had always seemed so...confident. Secure in her own body, her own appearance. She'd never called herself ugly or been remotely modest; not since he'd known her, anyway.

"Well...you didn't need to be. I think you look lovely...you know...despite all of the...you know...stuff..." He stammered. He was actually trying to watch what he said. He wouldn't have if Effie wasn't in a hospital bed; if she wasn't, she'd go off in a huff until she decided to stop being mad, but this was different.

Effie managed a tiny smile, which Haymitch returned, nervously.

"How're Katniss and Peeta?" Effie asked, changing the subject.

"Peeta's recovering..." He paused. Should he tell her about the state that Katniss was in? He didn't want to pile any undue stress on her, but he didn't want to lie to her either. He decided to do the latter. "Katniss...well...she's alive." He swallowed a hard lump in his throat. "Her sister, Prim...She was killed in a bomb explosion at President Snow's mansion." He expected the silence that followed. The little colour that Effie had in her face left it, leaving her ghostly pale.

"It's my fault..." She said, slowly. Haymitch stared hard at her, confused.

"What do you mean? Of course it wasn't..."

"But it is, Haymitch. I'm the whole reason we're in this mess. If I'd picked another name...any other name-"

"Effie..." Haymitch interrupted her. "It wasn't your fault. If you'd picked another name, we'd still have the games. Katniss wouldn't be the mockingjay and President Snow would still be alive. We'd still be training two kids to fight to the death, and then we'd watch them die. Nothing will have changed. I know we...lost people..." He needed a drink more and more by the second. "But it's better this way. No one else is going to die."

"But what about Katniss...? She did everything for Prim...She'd have given her life for her." As far as Haymitch knew, Effie was an only child. He hadn't asked to be honest. That was her business. But she seemed to be making an effort to understand how Katniss must have been feeling.

"Peeta will look after her. They'll look after eachother." He said, minimally. Effie's eyes filled with tears.

"And what about us? Will we be alright?" There was a lengthy pause that followed. _Would _they be alright? Effie would, surely. She'd go back to the Capitol, and continue her life where she left off. As for him...well...he would just go back to District Twelve and drink.

"We'll be fine." He nodded. "Especially you. You'll be about of here before you know it."

-x-x-x-

The next two weeks were pretty much uneventful. Haymitch would still visit every day, and he and Effie would just sit and talk for a while. Not about heavy stuff, though. Just small talk, about the weather and the brand of whiskey Haymitch was drinking.

The doctors had told Haymitch that Effie would be released from hospital on Friday. Today, Thursday, Haymitch walked into Effie's room, and smirked when he saw her.

She was sitting up in bed. She had no IV's in her now, so she looked vaguely normal again. Her wounds were healing and fading, too, thanks to the fancy medicine the Capitol hospitals always stocked. Haymitch's grin broadened when he saw that Effie was picking at her lunch – it looked revolting; just a bowl of green mush.

"I thought you Capitol people ate better food than this, Trinket?" He guffawed, sitting on his usual chair beside the bed.

"It's called hospital food, Haymitch." Effie grumbled, dejectedly. "We have a choice between cold mush or cold nothing." Haymitch laughed, and shook his head.

"Well tomorrow, you'll be able to go out for some proper food. Get a bit more meat back on you." He was smiling, but he took the last part of that remark seriously. She'd lost so much weight in prison. The wind would threaten to sweep her away if she lost much more. She wasn't eating much of the food here, either, but now he could see why. Effie stiffened and pushed her bowl away, looking restless.

"What's wrong, sweetheart?"

"It's just...I don't know what I'm going to do...when I get out of here, I mean."

"Well isn't it obvious?" Haymitch replied, with an eyebrow raised. "You'll go back to your apartment, and take a bubble bath like girls do, and then you'll probably go on a date with whatever guy you meet on the way home."

"You make me sound like a hooker, Haymitch. How much have you had to drink today?" Haymitch grinned, slyly. "Not much." He took a small flask out of his pocket. "Half of this left. Once I've left you I'll probably drop by a liquor store or something."

"You're not allowed that in here, Haymitch. They'll-"

"Oh calm down, you nag. I've been bringing it for weeks. If they were going to notice, they would have by now." He laughed at the expression on Effie's face. Usually, her discontented look irritated him, but in this instance, it was comical.

"I never saw you."

"That's because I either took it out when you were asleep or not looking, Princess. I'm not dumb enough to wave this thing in front of your nose."

"You just did..." She pointed out.

"Well you asked. And anyway, I haven't been too drunk while I've been to see you, have I?"

"Well two days ago, you could scarcely walk." Effie responded. By the look on her face, she was trying to decide whether to be disgusted or amused. "I'm surprised they didn't throw you out."

Haymitch batted his hand, impatiently.

"Well they didn't."

Effie nodded.

"When are you going back to Twelve?"

"Trying to get rid of me, sweetheart?" He smirked.

Effie shook her head, quickly.

"No...I was merely being curious."

"The day after tomorrow. I'll make sure you get home alright, maybe listen to you babble for a little while, and then spend one more night here. The train leaves at three on Saturday afternoon. Sorry, Princess, but I don't think I can be here much longer."

What he really meant was 'I can't stand to be around these people any longer', but he wasn't going to tell her that.

"Good...well not good...but you know what I mean."

"Yeah, I know, Eff." He stood up. "So I'll come get you tomorrow, and we'll either go to your apartment first, or we can go out to eat."

He was startling himself with his words. He never went anywhere in Twelve, except to buy liquor. He ventured out even less at the Capitol. But hey, he was trying to make his friend feel better. He didn't expect this to be easy for her, either. Effie seemed to notice the change in his demeanour too, because she looked puzzled.

"Did you get a brain transplant?"

"No..." Haymitch frowned. "I think your lectures on manners finally rubbed off on me. Don't worry though, I'll try and be my usual, obnoxious self tomorrow, especially for you." He beamed, his silvery grey eyes twinkling at her.

She looked away, embarrassed.

"Maybe you could save that for when you're back at Twelve?"

"Whatever you want, sweetheart."

**Author's Note:- Well, I hope you liked it for a first chapter, people! Reviews would be very much appreciated! The more I get, the more motivated I'll be to write. :)**

**Enjoy! x **


	2. Two - Effie

**Author's Note:- Well, here's chapter two, as promised! Thank you to the person who reviewed! (I'm sorry, I forgot to make a note of your pen name!). It was very sweet! I'm slightly worried that people don't like this, though, as I was hoping for more reviews. I figured that maybe if I updated again, I'd get some more! **

**Also, thank you to everyone who followed/favourited! I love you all! **

**I'm quite proud of this chapter. It took me three rewrites to get it the way I wanted it to be, but it was worth it!**

**I hope you enjoy reading it! **

"How much longer is this going to take, sweetheart?" Haymitch grumbled, taking a long swig of whiskey from the flask he seemed to carry with him at all times.

Effie had only been out of the hospital for a couple of hours, and a part of her wished that she wasn't well enough to be discharged. It may have been loud in there, and impossible to get any sleep, but she would have suffered that anywhere – Every time she closed her eyes, she felt a sense of anxiety that made sleep unattainable; and if, by some miracle, she drifted off for a few minutes, her nightmares always woke her up.

It wasn't just that, though. Now she was out of the safety of the hospital walls, and out in the open, she felt...exposed, vulnerable. She felt like everyone was whispering about her behind her back. Well, this was the Capitol, and news of her captivity had travelled fast. She'd hoped that by not wearing her wig, or her usual style of makeup, no one would recognise her; it didn't seem to be working.

"I'm just going to go into this last shop."

She didn't actually _want _to go shopping, as scandalous as it sounded, but she needed clothes that would fit her while she was in recovery. The clothes she used to wear would hang off her now. She'd lost so much weight after so many weeks of undernourishment.

She sighed as Haymitch drunkenly mumbled something that sounded like 'I'll wait outside'. When they left the hospital, he had been reasonably sober; now, she could barely catch a word that he was saying. She couldn't help hoping that he would at least go inside with her; not that he'd be any help when it came to choosing clothes, but she didn't feel comfortable with being by herself.

She entered the clothing boutique that she had been to a thousand times – it was one of her favourites. She was well known here, but she assumed that if she did run into anyone, they would have the sense to leave her alone, giving her current condition. She'd just been released from hospital, for crying out loud!

She made her way over to the back of the store, where the smaller sizes were kept, and began to mindlessly look through the racks, not paying much attention to what she was looking at. She had chosen a sparkly, glittery red dress, when a voice from behind her made her jump.

"Effie?"

Though she recognised the voice, it still made her heart rate increase by several beats. It was a similar response to the one she got at the Reaping, right before she picked the names from the bowls.

"Hello, Nadiah." She turned and managed a feeble smile. She was trying not to recoil at the brightness of Nadiah's outfit. She was in a short, lime green dress. The collar and short sleeves were laced with some sort of purple lace material. She sported a matching lime green wig, eye shadow, lipstick and shoes.

Nadiah had been one of Effie's childhood friends, and Nadiah only came to Effie nowadays when there was absolutely no one else to gossip with or swap style tips with. It made Effie feel used...but she never said so.

"I read all about you in the papers! Lorcan came home from work about a week ago and told me all about it! I didn't believe him at first, of course, so I went straight out and bought a paper and he was _right!_ Oh my God, Effie!" She said all of this so fast, it almost matched the pace of Effie's rapidly increasing heart rate. She could feel her chest tightening.

"I-I..." She stammered. She wanted nothing more than the ground to open up and swallow her right now. "How did you recognise me...?" She managed to ask, through her ragged breaths. She was starting to hyperventilate.

"Oh, well, of course you look different without your wig and make up! But there was a picture of you in...custody. " Nadiah shuddered at the word, and handed a newspaper page to Effie. She had been keeping it in her handbag. To show off to people, no doubt.

Effie snatched it from her, rudely, which of course, she normally wouldn't have done, especially to one of her friends, but manners were the last thing on her mind at the moment. She caught sight of herself at once; it was kind of hard not to when the picture covered up the entire front page. She was curled in a ball in the corner of her cell; her hair was matted and dirty, and wounds covered her face, arms, legs and quite frankly, her whole body. What scared her most was that she remembered how she got every single one of those wounds.

"I've...I've got to go..." She spoke in barely more than a whisper as she placed the dress back on the rack and began to leave, but Nadiah ran after her.

"Wait, Effie! Why don't we go for a coffee or something? Maybe a good catch up is just what you need!"

Effie turned, and glowered at her supposed friend, tearfully.

"And what would I tell you, Nadiah? Do you want to hear the gory details about what they did to me!?" Everyone in the shop was staring at them now, clearly wanting to get a good look at the action. "You want something good to share with everyone you know? I'll pass. Besides, I'm already here with someone."

Before Nadiah could question her, Effie felt a presence behind her.

"Is this woman bothering you, Effie?" She could smell the liquor on his breath, and she didn't need to look to see who it was. Haymitch. Nadiah's jaw dropped, comically, but no one felt like laughing. The atmosphere could be cut with a knife.

Effie was too panic-stricken to answer, and before she knew it, she was hit with fresh air and blinding sunshine; Haymitch had led her out of the shop.

Her heart was hammering in her ears, and all of the sounds of car doors slamming, horns beeping, and people chattering sounded a hundred times louder than they should have.

"I want to go home...please..." She whimpered. Her vision was becoming more distorted by the second. Whether this was due to tears, or something else entirely, she wasn't sure.

She felt Haymitch take her arm, gently, and lead her into a taxi that had just pulled up.

She didn't feel Haymitch let go of her until they were inside her apartment.

-x-

She began to calm down a little as she sat on one of the plush, purple sofa's in her sitting room. It was then that she noticed that Haymitch had left her side.

Worried, she stood up and made her way to the kitchen, where Haymitch was rooting around in cupboards. She found this incredibly rude – what gentleman came into someone else's house and looked through their cupboards without their permission? – But she didn't comment on it. Haymitch had never been a gentleman, after all.

"What are you looking for?" She asked, timidly, but he didn't react. He was either ignoring her or didn't hear. She saw him pour a light brown liquid from his flask into two glasses, and he handed one to her.

"It's brandy. It'll calm your nerves." He explained, downing his glass in one and pouring himself another. Effie didn't even bring her glass to her lips.

"I know what it is, Haymitch. I don't drink, you know I don't drink."

"Scared of becoming like me, are you, Princess?" He chuckled, sarcastically. That sarcastic laughter of his set Effie's teeth on edge.

"You're being incredibly rude, you know. And no, I'm not worried about becoming like you, because I know that will _never_ happen." She gave him the best scowl that she could muster, but to her annoyance, it only made him laugh more.

"That's what I thought, sweetheart. That's what I thought." Her eyes narrowed as he poured himself a third glass, after draining the second.

"Are you saying I'm weak?"

"Interpret it how you want, Trinket. I'm going to sit down." Effie heard him exit the kitchen and flop down on one of her couches. She heard a faint thud – Haymitch was putting his feet on the coffee table.

She practically stumbled into the living room. Her body wasn't ready for such physical exertion yet.

"Get your feet off my coffee table!" She snapped at him, feeling dizzy as soon as she did so. It seemed that shouting was part of her recovery plan – don't do it. But she couldn't help it. He had his filthy shoes on her _mahogany _coffee table!

She practically fell onto the sofa next to him. The glass of brandy was still in her hand. Haymitch raised an amused eyebrow at her.

"What are you going to do? Nag me? I've endured that for ten years, Princess." He belched, loudly, making Effie wince. He was revolting. "Now, be a good girl and drink your drink."

Effie sighed, raising the glass to her lips. She was curious as to what brandy tasted like, actually. She paused when the glass was almost touching her lips, then she lowered it again.

"I will if you take your feet off my very expensive coffee table." Haymitch shrugged, but didn't move his feet.

"It's no skin off my nose whether you drink it or not, Princess. If you want to continue feeling like a nervous wreck, don't let me stop you." Effie grumbled, as he poured himself yet _another _drink.

"Alright then, I'll just go and tip this away." She made to stand, but Haymitch grabbed her arm. He probably gripped harder than he intended, because he was drunk, but it still scared her.

"Don't you dare! That brandy is good quality stuff! I did _not _buy it for you to pour it down your drain!"

"Haymitch..." Effie gasped, holding the glass of liquor high above her head. "Let me go! Please!" But Haymitch didn't seem to realise her terror, and he climbed on top of her, attempting to wrestle the glass away from her.

She shrieked and squirmed under him. It was only after almost a whole minute of frantic screaming and sobbing, that Haymitch finally got the message and got off her.

"What's wrong with you? It's a play fight, woman!" Effie sat up, placing the glass on the table and sobbing into her hands. Haymitch stood there, for a few seconds, stunned, and then realisation dawned on him. "Oh...oh damn..."

Effie ignored him, and continued crying. Haymitch sighed, picking up the glass that Effie had put down, but in one swift movement, Effie was on her feet and the glass was back in her hand. She poured the liquor into her mouth, and made a face as the vile stuff burned her throat.

She sat down, instantly feeling light-headed. She could never hold alcohol well. She wondered how on earth Haymitch could drink more than a mouthful of the stuff every day.

"Another." She whispered, her tears eventually ceasing. Haymitch raised an eyebrow, the bewilderment on his face unmistakeable.

"Sorry?"

"Pour me another." She repeated, a little more clearly this time. Haymitch looked a little hesitant, before he poured another and handed it to her. She drained the glass as quickly as she had her first. She still despised the taste, but Haymitch was right about it calming her down. She already felt serene, if slightly drowsy.

" I'd go easy on that stuff, sweetheart. You're not used to it." Haymitch poured himself a large glass and downed it. Effie gave a small sniff, and held her glass out to him. "Really? You're going to clean me out, at this rate." He grumbled, but poured her another glass.

Effie hiccupped slightly as she downed the brandy. She downed a few more before the alcohol began to make her feel sick, so she planted the empty glass clumsily down on the coffee table.

"You missed the coaster." Haymitch commented, but Effie couldn't even see straight, and she was too far gone to care anymore. She lay back against the sofa cushions. She didn't hear anything out of Haymitch for a while, but she could tell that he was still drinking; she could hear the liquid sloshing every time he poured himself another drink.

"Stay the night." Effie slurred, half asleep. She wasn't drunk, she promised. She was just...tired. That was it. Tired.

"Excuse me? I think you're hammered, sweetheart. Never had a drink before, have you?"

"I'm not..." She whispered. "I'm not drunk. I just don't want to be on my own. You don't leave until tomorrow, so you might as well just stay." She felt her eyelids growing heavier. She didn't even consider that she would regret this in the morning. Whatever Haymitch had given her, it was strong stuff. But it did the trick, just as he'd said.

"I thought you were angry at me?" He grunted. She felt the weight on the sofa shift slightly as he moved to stand up.

"I am...I mean I'm not...I'm not anymore." She whimpered, anxious that he was leaving. Though she was calmer, the drink was causing her thought processes to go awry. Though Haymitch probably wasn't thinking much straighter than her, she wanted him to stay. "Don't go."

Haymitch chuckled, but it wasn't scorn. She could tell that much.

"I'm not going anywhere. Not until tomorrow. I'm getting you a bucket, in case you decide to spew that back up." Effie huffed, curling up so she was more comfortable.

"I wouldn't do such a thing. It's bad manners." She murmured, sleepily. She heard Haymitch come back with the bucket, and didn't even flinch as she felt him carefully remove her shoes, and cover her with a thick, warm blanket.

"Oh of course it is, I was forgetting." Haymitch muttered, pulling the blanket up to her chin. "Go to sleep."

Effie was about to ask him what he was going to do while she slept, but the alcohol and exhaustion claimed her before she could.

-x-x-

She had a splitting headache and no aspirin.

When she woke up, the sun was already high in the sky. She hadn't slept this late since she was a teenager, but she didn't feel any less tired than when she went to sleep.

When had she gone to sleep, anyway? She couldn't remember. And where did this blanket come from? The only ones here were her and...

Haymitch!

She sat bolt upright, groaning as the pain in her head grew ten times worse. Her skull was in danger of exploding. When she looked around, she couldn't see Haymitch anywhere.

She got up and staggered to her bedroom, the bathroom, the kitchen, but all she found was thick layers of dust. She hadn't been home in months, so there had been no one here to clean.

The pain was excruciating, and affecting her vision, so she just about made it back to the living room, before collapsing onto the sofa again.

It was then that she noticed the note.

It was definitely Haymitch's terrible, illegible writing. She would have to give him lessons on neat lettering when she next saw him. She blamed most of the illegibility on the drunken state he was probably in, though.

After a few failed attempts, she could finally make out the words.

_Effie,_

_Had to catch my train. Would have said goodbye, but I didn't want to wake you. _

_I'll see you around,_

_H._

Effie swallowed hard. The note was so blunt...so short. He made it sound like she was never going to see him again, and just the very thought made her worry that she wouldn't.

It wasn't just worry that rose through her, though. It was something more; something she felt every year, when her tributes entered the arena.

It was dread.

**Author's Note:- Don't you just adore drunk Effie!? ;) No, she didn't have that much to drink, but I always pictured her as somewhat of a lightweight. **

**Anyway, please review! Every single review I get makes my day a little bit brighter!**

**See you in Chapter Three!**

**x**


	3. Three - Haymitch

**Author's Note:- I'm getting better at updates, no? So here's chapter three, as promised! And I got more reviews since I posted the last chapter, so thank you so much! It made me feel much better. **

**I hope you like this chapter! I struggled a lot with it, I admit. But it eventually turned out alright, I think. I'm working on chapter five right now, but I've reached a road block; I really hope I come out of it! I want to continue these weekly updates. **

**So yes, I hope you like it!**

After promising himself that he would never be here again, here he was; at the damn Capitol.

Three months had passed since Haymitch had left Effie at the Capitol, and he had planned to never come back.

He and Effie had their usual arrangement of Capitol liquor being sent to him each month...only this month he hadn't received it. He could have stuck with the usual liquor he bought from the Hob, but he'd heard that Beetee was at the Capitol, so he decided to visit him and pick up some liquor at the same time.

He'd gotten especially friendly with Beetee during the rebellion, after all, but that wasn't the only reason that he was dragging himself back to the Capitol; a part of him wondered why Effie hadn't been in contact, or sent his liquor, for that matter.

Peeta and Katniss hadn't heard from her either, and seeing as Haymitch didn't have a phone that worked, they had tried to call her several times, but she never answered.

It was very unlike Effie to not answer her phone.

So Haymitch began to grow concerned.

He stepped off the train, shuddering at the very sight of the Capitol; the extravagance of it always made him feel sick to his stomach. Here these people were, cosy in their little lives, always having enough to eat, and then there was District Twelve, barely able to feed one person, let alone a whole family.

Life in District Twelve had improved since the rebellion, of course, but the Capitol still had things much better than the districts.

"Hey, Haymitch!" Beetee called him over, from the bench he was sitting on. Haymitch sighed, and ambled over.

"Hey, Beetee..." He paused for a few seconds, "Can we go to a bar or something?" Haymitch automatically smirked as Beetee shook his head, muttering something that sounded like 'Some things never change'.

"Fine. I know a place a couple of minutes walk from here."

-x-

Haymitch sat with Beetee in a very respectable looking bar, not that he cared what it looked like. All that mattered to him was that he had a nice, strong drink in his hand.

"So..." Haymitch began, after draining his glass. "What you doing here in the Capitol?"

"Oh, looking for a job." Beetee shrugged, sipping his own glass of beer. "I figured the Capitol could never have too many electricians, and the like." Haymitch raised an eyebrow. Beetee must have been insane to work in the Capitol. He'd never choose it in a million years, but that was just him.

"You'd leave District Three? You'd leave your wife and kids? Or are you moving up here?"

"No. I'd only work here for a week every month or something. Still, I get paid more than District Three ever did, and what with my daughters getting older, we could use the money." That was right, Beetee had two girls. He had a family to support. People like Haymitch didn't have things like that tying him down, which he was joyful of.

"Well, that's still more time than I'd like to spend in the Capitol." Haymitch muttered, filling his glass and swiftly draining it again.

"If that's true, Haymitch, why do you keep coming back?" Haymitch looked aggravated at his question.

"You asked to catch up...and besides, they have better liquor here." He drank deeply from his glass. He couldn't help but notice that Beetee was right – as much as he wanted to stay away from the Capitol, there was always something – or someone – that lured him here, again and again.

"Oh? And I thought that woman – your escort – send you Capitol liquor?" Haymitch's stomach twisted at the mention of Effie.

"Effie? Well yeah, so did I, but I haven't heard from her in three months." He shrugged. "Have you?" Beetee shook his head.

"I don't think anyone has. I used to see her around quite often when I was here, shopping, usually. I've asked around and no one's seen her since...well since you last saw her, actually." Haymitch's heart sank.

Effie was always out and about, but if she wasn't answering her phone, and no one had seen her, then where was she?

"Besides." Beetee continued. "Why would she contact me and not you? You're the one she likes." Haymitch spluttered.

"Likes!? I don't think so! She wouldn't possibly nag as much as she does, otherwise!"

"My wife nags me, and she wouldn't have married me if she didn't 'like' me." Beetee chuckled. "Besides, I've seen the way she looks at you. I remember, she was insanely jealous when you talked to anyone else female."

Haymitch waved his hand, dismissively.

"She was probably just disgusted about my lack of 'proper manners'. Effie's always pissed off about something." Beetee shrugged.

"Well it's odd that no one's seen her, though. You'd think after so long of being locked up, she'd want some retail therapy."

"Well..." Haymitch stiffened, remembering something. When he and Effie had gone shopping the day she was released, that Nadiah, or whatever her name was, had bombarded Effie with questions – the last thing she needed, and it really freaked her out.

Maybe no one had seen her because she didn't _want _to be seen.

He shook his head, discarding what he had been about to say, and standing. "I have to go. I just remembered something I have to do."

And with that, he left the bar, without even saying goodbye to a stunned Beetee.

-x-x-

Effie wasn't answering her door, either. Haymitch had gone to her apartment directly from his drink with Beetee, and he had been knocking for ten minutes, with no answer.

He would have given up and left by now, but a part of him sensed that Effie was in there, and for some reason, she just wasn't answering.

He pushed down the unpleasant thought of her being hurt, or worse.

Grumbling, he turned away from the door, and crossed the corridor.

"You never make this easy, Trinket." He muttered under his breath, before hurling, full speed at the door, and colliding with the solid mahogany. Haymitch groaned as the collision with the door caused a sharp pain in his shoulder, but he heard the wood splinter a little as he hit it. He backed up again, and repeated the process.

This time, the door flew open upon contact with it, and Haymitch had to steady himself to keep from falling.

The sight that met Haymitch surprised him, to say the least. Effie's usually immaculate apartment looked like it had been broken into; vases and ornaments lay smashed on the living room floor; the sofa cushions were torn, and papers were ripped and littered everywhere. It was also abnormally dark in there – the blinds were shut and no lights were on.

Before he could properly assess the damage, he heard something from deeper in the apartment; from the bathroom, to be more specific.

Haymitch picked up a broken lamp that was lying on the floor, ripped it from its socket and made his way forward. When he turned the bathroom light on, at first glance, it appeared empty: and then he saw the shadow behind the sparkly pink shower curtain. He edged forward, grabbed a corner of the waterproof material, and pulled.

The first thing he was met with was a flash of silver, and a scream.

The knife blade missed Haymitch's throat by a couple of millimetres, and though he was panicking, he knew the identity of his attacker instantly.

Effie.

He grabbed her arms, to stop her doing anymore damage, and held her securely by her wrists.

"Effie, it's me! Put the knife down, Princess!" Effie continued the struggle for a few seconds, and then her tired eyes focussed on Haymitch, and she dropped the knife into the bathtub, and started weeping uncontrollably.

She didn't look any better than when he had last seen her...in fact, she looked worse, if anything. She looked to have lost more weight, as the pink dress she had bought on their last meeting looked a little loose on her; she had deep purple shadows under her eyes, and she had a cut above her left eye, which had bled down the side of her face. The blood was dry, so it was a fairly old wound.

Haymitch lifted Effie out of the tub as she wrapped her arms around him, and carried her with ease into the living room. Despite how uncomfortable he found doing this, he sat on the ruined sofa, holding Effie on his lap, rocking her gently as she sobbed into his shoulder.

"You didn't come...I kept calling for you, but you didn't come..." Effie shakily whispered into his ear. Haymitch felt his stomach twist into a knot – the feeling he usually associated with guilt.

"I didn't know you wanted me to..." He whispered, awkwardly rubbing her back. After a while, Effie's sobs turned to sniffles. "What happened to your eye, sweetheart?"

She released a unsteady sigh, wiping her eyes. "I went to get groceries...I got mugged." Haymitch stiffened.

"Who by? And how long ago was this?"

"A group of teenage boys...and about a week ago..." Effie let out a whimper. "They were so rude, Haymitch." Haymitch always knew that not even the Capitol was perfect. Actually, the Capitol was worse for crimes and muggings than the Districts. In the Districts, everyone seemed to be one big family. The same couldn't be said for the Capitol.

"What did they take?" He asked her, gently.

"Just my purse." She whispered, staring into space. After a while, Haymitch moved her off his lap, and headed to the kitchen.

"Where are you going?" She asked him, sounding tense. He didn't answer; instead, he came back a few seconds later, with a damp cloth. He pressed it to her cut, and she winced. Haymitch cleaned up the blood, and placed his hands on Effie's.

"Why didn't you tell us things had gotten so bad? You don't have to do everything by yourself, Effie."

More to the point, why had the hospital released Effie if her state of mind was this unstable? Then again, Effie had years of experience of hiding things when she wanted to. Even he had found it hard to tell. Yes, she was nervous when she came home, but who wouldn't be? He left her alone because he thought she would be okay after two or three days.

Wrong again, Haymitch.

"I didn't want to talk to anyone." She replied, quietly. So that's why she wasn't answering her phone.

Haymitch swallowed the lump in his throat, and stood up.

"Have you cancelled your credit cards?" It didn't surprise him when Effie shook her head. That was a job for him, then. "Have you been struggling like this since I left?" Effie shrugged. "Speak, Effie." He was trying his best not to get irritated, but how could he help her if she wouldn't talk to him?

"I-I have nightmares..." She stammered. "I can't sleep...I can't eat...when I go out, people stare at me. When I'm confronted by someone I can't speak...I obviously can't defend myself." She was clearly referring to the mugging. "I want things to be the way they were...I want my confidence back...but I can't stop thinking about what happened...and people won't let me forget."

Haymitch chewed his lip. He wasn't good at comforting people at the best of times. He just wasn't that sort of person.

"Would you feel better if you left the Capitol?"

"What...what do you mean?"

"It's a simple enough question, Eff." Clearly, the Capitol wasn't doing a thing for her. He'd suggest seeing a shrink, but he knew how offended Effie would get by such a suggestion, so he kept his mouth shut.

"I don't know...the Capitol is my home. It's the only place I know."

"And yet you can't set foot outside your front door."

He remembered how Effie used to take care of him when he was too drunk to take himself to bed, or when he had vomited on her shoes. He remembered how Effie was there for him, even after he'd drunkenly called her vile, unforgiveable names. Granted, he couldn't remember half of what he did, but Effie did. He'd hurt Effie in ways he couldn't even forgive himself for. And what had he done for her?

Nothing.

Effie's tired blue eyes met his grey ones, and she whispered so that Haymitch could barely hear her. "I don't want to be on my own..."

"Then come with me to Twelve." Haymitch responded, all of a sudden. "I'll try and tolerate your nagging, and if you don't interfere with my drinking, we shouldn't have any problems."

Yes, this was way out of comfort zone – Effie Trinket staying in District Twelve? In his house? But he felt like he owed her something and perhaps letting her have a change of scenery would help her.

"Okay." Effie replied, more quickly than he had expected.

"Excuse me?" He raised an eyebrow, thinking he had heard wrong.

"Yes. I'll come with you to Twelve."

**Author's Note:- Well here you go! Chapter three! As usual, I'd love some reviews! The more I get, the more I want to write! They give me so much confidence and confidence generally helps my writing!**

**See you in chapter four! **

**x**


	4. Four - Effie

**Author's Note:- Here's Chapter Four! And I managed to break out of my block and write Chapter Five! I'll get started on Chapters Six and Seven this week, after I've done...you know...coursework, tehe. **

**I liked this chapter, which is rare for me because I hardly like anything I write. **

**Anyway, enough of me babbling. Enjoy the chapter!**

"So you think it was good 'practice' to release a patient before she's ready!? You should see the state she's in!" Haymitch snapped, to someone that Effie couldn't see.

She was in her room, packing for District Twelve, and Haymitch was on the cordless phone in the living room, yelling at someone; a doctor, it sounded like.

"What do you mean 'I don't know what you're talking about!?'" She heard Haymitch barked. He sounded sober...well more or less, anyway. "She hasn't talked to anyone since _you_ discharged her without a second glance! You didn't even refer her to a psychiatrist! You thought you'd heal her wounds and she'd be fine! Well you were WRONG!" He shouted the last word with such ferocity that it made the hairs on Effie's arms stand on end. She heard a crash as Haymitch threw the handset against the wall.

He'd broken the phone.

Still, she didn't move. She continued packing as though she never heard anything.

So Haymitch thought she was mad. That much was palpable. He'd always thought her crazy, with her schedules and manners and the need to have everything perfect; but that was who she was, and she wasn't changing that for anyone.

But what Haymitch was referring to was a different kind of insanity: She wasn't stupid. She knew that Haymitch thought her insane because of what she had been through in prison, and she hated that. She had tried so hard to be strong, but she was petrified. She thought that she could manage on her own, after going back to the old routine, but it wasn't that straightforward.

Every time she left the house, people stared and whispered, and some were even bold enough to approach her and ask her if she was okay. Effie knew they meant well, and she was polite to them, but all she wanted was to be left alone and not have to talk about it anymore.

She didn't want to be around people from the Capitol any longer; hardly any of them knew what it was like to be in their mercy. The mercy of the Capitol. The ones who did, such as Cinna and Portia, were either dead who had lost contact.

Effie hadn't even heard from the rest of Katniss' prep team.

She wished that Cinna and Portia were alive now: They were her dear friends, and would have helped her through this.

Haymitch, Katniss, Peeta and Annie from District Four were the only other people that Effie had to talk to; but Annie had enough on her mind, what with the baby and Finnick's death; Katniss and Peeta were still trying to recover from their own, personal ordeals...and as for Haymitch...well he wasn't exactly the easiest person to talk to.

"What are you thinking about?" A male voice asked from the doorway, startling Effie and making her jump: She hadn't noticed that she had stopped mid-way through packing, just staring down at her suitcase with a glazed over look in her eyes.

"Nothing." She lied, swiftly brushing some of her hair behind her ear, and efficiently placing the last of her things into her suitcase.

"You're the worst liar." She heard Haymitch grunt, behind her. "Tell me." He demanded, before drinking from his flask – There was some sort of spirit in there, as per usual; Effie could smell the fumes.

Effie breathed a sigh, zipping her suitcase, wondering where to start. True, Haymitch wasn't easy to talk to...but she also knew that he wouldn't drop the subject until she told him what he wanted to know.

"Why do you want me to come to District Twelve? I mean, it's not like we could stand to spend a couple of weeks with one another, during the games." It was true. They did get on each other's nerves, and Haymitch wasn't pleasant when he was annoyed with her. She held most of the things she thought about him in, keeping them to herself, whereas he threw every last name he could think of at her.

It hurt her feelings, but she never revealed that to him, nor did she let it show on her face.

"It isn't just me. Mostly Katniss and Peeta, actually." Haymitch replied with a shrug. "They practically begged me to come and check on you. You were due a visit, anyway."

Effie nodded, simply. She didn't know why Katniss or Peeta wanted to see her – She presumed that considered her an enemy to them, being from the Capitol and all. Her conscience was telling her to change her mind and stay at her home; the only thing she knew.

But she couldn't stay here. Not with the people she had nothing in common with anymore.

"Well...I don't want to be a burden or anything."

Haymitch snorted.

"I wouldn't call you a burden, but I'm pretty sure you're going to irritate the fuck out of me, Trinket." Effie's fists clenched to her sides – He was already rubbing her up the wrong way, and they hadn't even gotten on the train yet.

"Let's just go." She moaned, before she could change her mind.

-x-

_She was freezing, and the amount she hugged her knees to her chest, balling up to try and keep warm, wasn't working anymore._

_It was silent, for the moment, but in a way, the silence was worse than the screaming. Screaming meant that people were still alive, even if they were hurting. Other's screaming meant that she wasn't alone. She wasn't the only one still suffering this misery._

"_Effie?" Mumbled a voice that Effie couldn't quite make out. It was coming from the other side of her cell wall, so she couldn't see the face of the woman who addressed her, either, but she could hear them._

_She opened her mouth to answer, but her cell door opened rapidly, and in came a redhead man, in a peacekeeper's uniform. He was carrying a whip, and not the whip that Effie had been beaten with the past few weeks; this was a whip with thorns attached to it: designed to hurt a hundred times as much, and do ten times more damage to her already wounded and bleeding skin._

"_You know what happens when you don't tell us what we want to know, Trinket." He snarled, raising the whip above her trembling body..._

Her eyes flew open before the whip made contact with her skin, and she gasped, placing a hand to her chest. Her heart was thumping rapidly – it was deafening to her ears, and painful to her chest. She must have fallen asleep somewhere between District Three and District Four, because the left side of her face was numb from where it had been resting against the window.

Judging by the scenery outside of the window, endless stretches of sand and water, they were still in District Four. She must have only been asleep for an hour, maybe less.

She tried to slow her breathing, as Haymitch looked up from where he sat opposite. He had been nursing a bottle of vodka since the start of the trip, and the one he was holding probably wasn't the one he'd started with.

"Nice nap?" He enquired, not sounding interested at all. Effie shrugged, not wanting to lie, but not wanting to tell the truth, either. "You might want to reapply some of that makeup, sweetheart." He smirked, smugly, as Effie rushed to take a compact mirror out of her bag.

"I can't look like this!" She shrieked, as she began to panic: The foundation had rubbed off the left side of her face while she had slept, so it now looked considerably redder than the other side. The eyeliner and mascara was running, and she didn't know why, until a sudden thought occurred to her: She had woken up crying.

She got to her feet and rushed to the nearest bathroom, and to her anger and upset, she could hear Haymitch laughing at her as she passed him.

She locked the bathroom door, and removed all of her makeup, in order to start again. She shuddered at the very sight of herself: pale, sunken, and hollow: she didn't look healthy in the slightest. She grabbed her concealer and first began to smear it over those terrible bags under her eyes, which many nights of little or no sleep had given her. She next moved on to cover her fading scratches and scars. Though, due to the work of the Capitol, they were barely noticeable anymore, she was still paranoid. She powdered her face and reapplied her eyeliner, pink shadow, and mascara.

She still didn't want to be recognised...but she still wanted to look halfway decent.

"So I see you've gotten yourself all uglied up again, Princess." Haymitch slurred as she returned to their train car.

Their carriage wasn't dissimilar to the one they had ridden in each year of The Hunger Games. Anything was at their disposal. Food and drink and the like. There were plush sofa's, and a mahogany table.

Well the trip to and from District Twelve took almost a day, so one had to be comfortable.

Effie sat down, stiffly. By now, it was beginning to get dark outside, and dinner had been served. It was roasted chicken, with boiled potatoes and carrots, a meal that Effie usually liked; right now, though, she couldn't bring herself to eat a single bite.

"Eat, you're too skinny. You look anorexic." Haymitch hissed, callously, though he wasn't touching his food, either: He was more interested in the wine selection that was on offer. Hurt by his comment, Effie began to eat. She ate slowly at first, and then began to pick up speed. She didn't stop until there was nothing on her plate, but she soon knew that eating that much that fast had been a mistake.

Hoping no one could see under her thick layers of makeup, she felt the colour drain from her face, and she bolted from the table. She had just made it to the toilet in time before she emptied the contents of her stomach.

She held her hair back as well as she could as she vomited. She didn't even have time to think about how disgusting this must have looked; she felt too ill for that.

Without warning, someone put a hand on her back, and held her hair back, gently: She must have left the bathroom door open in her haste to get to the toilet.

She looked up, and found herself looking at Haymitch.

Great. Something else he could use against her. Effie Trinket, throwing up violently and him having to hold her hair back.

As if he wasn't vile enough towards her already.

"What are you doing?" She groaned, as she flushed the toilet and leaned her head of the toilet rim. It was probably unhygienic, but the cool marble felt soothing against her aching head.

"Well, I didn't want you throwing a tantrum if you got puke in your hair." He rolled his eyes, dropping her blonde locks and handing her a glass of water. "Drink this. Your breath stinks."

Effie glowered at him as she took the water from him and took a sip.

"Go away, Haymitch." She grumbled, not moving from her spot on the floor.

"With pleasure." He growled, and walked towards the door. As he left, Effie swore she could hear him muttering something that sounded like 'And she says I don't do anything for her'.

Effie stayed on the bathroom floor for a few more minutes, before she stood. She made her way, not back to Haymitch, but to her bedroom on the train.

She did feel a little bad for snapping at Haymitch the way she did; it wasn't like him to offer help, after all. But then he made the comment about her breath, which stopped her feeling guilty in a heartbeat.

She got into the shower, trying not to set eyes on the scars on her body as she washed. She dried, dressed in her nightdress (her favourite – which contrary to popular belief, was cotton, not silk. Who could sleep in silk, anyway? It was too slippery!), and brushed her teeth and hair, before climbing under her covers.

She didn't go to sleep, of course. She flicked through the channels of her private television, trying to find something to watch. She stiffened as she settled on a station that was playing some sort of horror movie.

The cell on TV looked just like Effie's had – dark, damp, with no windows, and a big, metal door. Impossible to break out of and the door could easy break your hand or wrist of someone tried too hard to escape.

Inside was a young woman, cowering as a man, a cell warden, ripped her clothes off, and began thrusting into her, not caring whether he was hurting the young girl or not.

It brought back horrible memories for Effie. The same thing had happened to her, multiple times, and not all that long ago.

She would have changed the channel, but it was too late. She was already having flashbacks.

Effie squeezed her eyes shut as the woman sobbed and screamed for mercy, begging for the man to stop. But he didn't, and she kept on screaming.

In seconds, the room became dark and silent, except it wasn't silent. Someone was still screaming.

She was still screaming.

Not sure how she heard over herself, Effie quietened as she heard her bedroom door close.

Her fear turned to anger as she rushed to the door and yanked it open, ready to chew someone's ear off for invading her privacy...but there was no one there.

All she saw, from the corner of her eye, was Haymitch rounding the corner as he walked away, with a whiskey bottle in hand.

-x-x-

The sun rose over the fields of District Eleven, and Effie knew that they would soon reach their destination. She dressed and applied her makeup, taking as long as she could to do it, before making her way to breakfast.

Naturally, she hadn't slept all night. She forced herself to stay awake so she wouldn't have to suffer the nightmares again. She distracted herself by looking at the view outside, and guessing which District they were leaving, which one they were travelling through, and which one they were entering.

The last few hours of the train journey were uneventful. She and Haymitch sat as far from one another as possible, and neither spoke. Effie supposed he was sulking because she'd snapped at him. She was still angry at him for his rude comment yesterday, and she wasn't prepared to forgive him.

Though, last night, he had gone to her when he heard her screaming. He had turned the television off, and then left her alone without saying a word. That didn't sound like Haymitch one bit, well perhaps the last part did, but he had been acting oddly lately.

It was as though he had multiple personalities; One minute, he was being pleasant to her, behaving like a friend and offering her help, like when he asked her to come to District Twelve. Minutes later, though, he would go back to his old self; being rude to her at every opportunity, and making remarks that he knew would hurt her feelings.

She wished he would make up his mind, because she was finding it difficult to keep up with her own life, let alone Haymitch's mood swings.

Before long, the fields of District Eleven faded away, and the train began to slow.

Effie carried her luggage off the train without any offer of help from Haymitch.

When she stepped off the train, she was met by a young boy, who was smiling, and looked easy to please.

Well at least some people here had manners, anyway. He was still smiling as he greeted her.

"Welcome to District Twelve."

**Author's Note:- Haymitch is like Jekyll and Hyde, don't you think? He can't decide whether he should be soft or harsh. I felt so sorry for Effie in this chapter, too. :(**

**As usual, the more reviews I get, the more I want to write, so please review!**

**I'll see you in Chapter Five, lovies! **

**x**


	5. Five - Haymitch

**Author's Note:- Hi, everyone! Here you go, an earlier update this week! And also, thank you so much for all of the reviews, so far! I don't really have much to say in this author's note, except that I'm currently working on Chapter Six. Trying to get through another block. **

**I hope you enjoy!**

Bringing her to Twelve had been a terrible idea.

She had only been here for a few days, but Haymitch was already regretting his decision. And the odd thing was that she hadn't nagged him at all; she hadn't said anything remotely annoying to him.

She'd barely said anything at all.

He had gone back to his old routine: He drank until he passed out, he'd wake up, and then he'd repeat the process.

At times, if he vomited all over himself before passing out, he would wake up clean; because of Effie.

She was still looking after him, even when she felt so awful.

But he just didn't know what to do for her.

This was why he was here, at Peeta's house, asking for help.

Peeta looked surprised when he answered the door to find his mentor standing there, and he looked even more surprised by the fact that Haymitch was almost sober. Almost.

"Haymitch?" He raised a blonde eyebrow, "You're visiting _me._" It was a strange turn of events; Haymitch never pursued Peeta or Katniss. They were usually the ones visiting him: To either stock him up on liquor when he was running low, or to check that he was still alive.

After Effie had arrived, no one had visited. He preferred it that way, until now. He didn't want anyone bothering Effie or upsetting her. She was so fragile, and even _he _was tip-toeing around her. He kept his sarcastic comments and insults to himself. At least until she got better.

He just wanted her to get better.

He missed having someone to insult.

"Yeah, I'm visiting you." He shuffled his feet, pedantically. "Can I come in?" Peeta stepped aside to let him in without a word.

As soon as he set foot through the door, Haymitch was hit by the smell of baking bread. Of course, baking was mostly what Peeta did. Especially these days, with his recovery, and all. It calmed him down.

"What's wrong?" Peeta asked, settling on the couch in the living room.

"What makes you think that something's wrong?" Haymitch grumbled, sitting opposite his friend. He clenched his fists as Peeta chuckled.

"You never visit us; so something must be wrong, right?" Haymitch shrugged.

"I suppose so..." He replied, slowly.

"Is it Effie?" Damn, Peeta.

He was so good at reading people.

Sometimes it annoyed Haymitch, but other times, like this, he could use this to his advantage.

"I don't know how to make her feel better." He began – he wasn't good at spewing feelings, but it was essential, now. "She's not improving. She's not eating, she's not sleeping, and she barely speaks. I don't see her for most of the day, and when I do see her, she's vacant." He rubbed his forehead. Peeta chewed his bottom lip, sympathetically.

"Effie barely speaks? I thought you'd enjoy the peace and quiet." Haymitch smiled bitterly to himself – Yeah, he thought he would too. And he did, for the first two or three days, but Effie wasn't acting like herself.

And he missed that.

He needed someone to argue with.

"Don't get me wrong, it's nice when she shuts up; but not when she's quiet all the time. It makes me uncomfortable." Peeta nodded, plainly.

"And why are you coming to me for help?" Haymitch sighed – It was a excellent question.

"Because I've reached a dead end, and you could probably get through to her better than I could." Peeta looked amused.

"I doubt that. She always liked you, Haymitch."

"Yeah well, her liking me isn't doing much good right now." Haymitch muttered. They were both quiet for a little while, ostensibly lost in thought.

"Why don't you and Effie come over for dinner tonight? Take her mind off it." Peeta suggested. Normally, Haymitch never accepted invites to dinner, but he wanted to make an effort.

"Won't Katniss mind?" Peeta shook his head.

"To be honest, I think she could use the distraction, too. We were going to come over, you know? But we thought it would be better to give you guys some space." Haymitch nodded, in agreement.

"Yeah...now I'll have to try and convince her to come. I don't think she's really up for seeing anyone."

"Well, if she doesn't feel up to it, you could come by yourself. About eight o'clock tonight?" Haymitch grunted in response – He was starting to regret this already.

"Fine."

-x-

"Come on, sweetheart! It's just dinner!" Haymitch groaned, standing on the other side of Effie's bedroom door. Just as he expected, the moment he mentioned dinner tonight, Effie flat out refused and rushed up to her bedroom.

"I can't! I'm not ready yet!" Effie sobbed. From the volume of her sobs, Haymitch could tell that she was sitting on the other side of the door.

"Come on, Eff. It's only Katniss and Peeta. They're not going to hurt you." He was frustrated already.

Frustrated enough to want a damn drink.

Of course, he'd expecting convincing her to be difficult, but patience wasn't one of his strong points.

He still wasn't used to dealing with wilful women, such as Effie.

"I know what everyone thinks." Her voice was muffled. Haymitch rolled his eyes.

"Enlighten me then, Princess. What does everyone think?"

"That I should go back to the Capitol! They all hate me being here! I don't fit in!" Haymitch frowned, leaning his head against the door.

"Nobody thinks that, Eff. Katniss and Peeta don't think that. They want you to come over. Peeta invited you himself." He paused for a few seconds, before he continued, "We don't have to stay for any longer than you want to. Just show your face, okay?"

There was a short pause, before the door unlocked and opened. Effie stood there, hugging herself in apprehension. Her face was red and splotchy from crying. He couldn't help wondering when she last slept, but that would have to wait until later.

"If I feel uncomfortable, can we come back?" Haymitch nodded.

"Yes, if you feel uncomfortable, we can come back. We'll be leaving in two and a half hours, so you'll have to start getting ready. We all know how long you take." He smirked, and his heart leapt as Effie gave him one of her disapproving looks – These moments, where the old Effie returned, even for a couple of seconds, gave him hope.

-x-x-

"You ready yet, sweetheart?" Haymitch mumbled, impatiently. Effie still took forever to get ready. He just hoped that she wasn't wearing a stupid wig.

Effie appeared at the top of the stairs, and she looked...breathtaking. She was wearing a knee length, lilac dress. It was still a little big for her, but she had made it stay with pins. To his relief, she wasn't wearing her wig – her blonde hair was hanging down her back, and loosely framing her face. She'd kept the makeup to a bare minimum, too – just some purple eye shadow, mascara and some light pink lip gloss.

"What?" Effie spoke in barely more than a whisper, and Haymitch looked away, realising that he had been staring at her for too long.

"Nothing. Can we go now, or do you need to paint your fingernails or something?" Effie shook her head. She didn't even make a remark on his rudeness.

"Well then, let's go." He muttered, gruffly.

Even though Effie had taken so long to get ready, she and Haymitch arrived fifteen minutes early.

"It's good to see you, Effie." Peeta smiled, politely, pulling her into a hug. Effie hesitated for a few moments before she returned his hug, weakly. Peeta pulled away, appearing to sense her discomfort. "Go on through to the dining room. I'd better check that Katniss hasn't cremated the turkey."

"I heard that!" Katniss yelled from the kitchen, which made both Peeta and Haymitch laugh. Effie maintained a straight face.

Effie made her way into the dining room, and Haymitch was about to follow her, but Peeta grabbed his arm, stopping him.

"Have you looked at her eyes?" Haymitch looked confused. Why should he have? He hadn't looked into her eyes, and he was doing that deliberately; He didn't want Effie to think that he was _gazing _into them or anything. The last thing he wanted was for her to get the wrong idea.

"She looks tired...but anyone can see that. She hasn't been sleeping, has she?" He responded blankly.

"It's not just that...They look...glassy...glazed over." Haymitch struggled to remember whether he'd noticed this about Effie's eyes or not. He hadn't.

"What do you think that means?" Peeta shrugged.

"I don't know...but it's not normal. She's not on any medication, is she?" Haymitch shook his head.

"Not that I know of..." Peeta opened his mouth to answer, but at that moment, Katniss called them for dinner. Haymitch pushed Effie to the back of his mind; He was more interested in what liquor Peeta had bought to go with their dinner.

-x-x-x-

He watched as Effie pushed her food around her plate. He hadn't expected her to eat any, of course, but it was unusual for her to not try it first. It was good manners to do so, and manners were very important to her, after all.

He had to stop thinking like this, or he'd turn into Effie, soon.

He noticed though, as dinner went on, Effie went steadily quieter, and paler. By the time dessert came, Effie looked about ready to pass out.

"Effie?" Katniss frowned, looking concerned. "Are you okay?" Effie looked up, tears shining in her eyes.

"I-I..." She whispered, weakly, before she lost consciousness, falling out of her chair and onto the floor.

"Shit!" Haymitch hissed, leaping out of his chair, his head spinning from the alcohol he had consumed today. He knelt down beside her and stroked some hair away from her face. She was still breathing, but she was still pale and sweaty. Her temperature had shot right up.

Haymitch had no idea what to do, of course, so he stayed with Effie whilst Peeta went to get her a cold, wet cloth, and Katniss was...rummaging through Effie's bag? Haymitch almost told her to stop searching through her things, but then he decided against it. It was Effie's job to tell her off, not his, and she was unconscious, so tough.

After Peeta had placed the wet rag on Effie's head, Katniss spoke up.

"Haymitch...look." Haymitch turned towards the sound of her voice, and he instantly spotted what she was holding in her hand; an empty bottle of pills. They looked like anti-anxiety pills of some sort. They were strong stuff, too. They came from the Capitol.

"For fuck sake, Effie!" Haymitch snapped at her, slapping her cheek, lightly. Effie whimpered and opened her eyes, slowly. "How many have you taken!?" Haymitch growled the second she opened her eyes. Effie opened her mouth to respond, and Haymitch had to lean in close to her to catch what she was weakly trying to tell him.

"A-All of them..." She whispered into his ear. Before he had time to even think about if, Haymitch lifted Effie into his arms and rushed with her to the nearest bathroom. He set her down in front of the toilet and glared furiously at her.

"Stick your fingers down your throat! Throw them up!" He barked at her. He was panicking, and right now, he didn't care who saw his true emotions. Effie shook her head, feebly.

"I can't..." She half whispered, half sobbed.

"Yes you damn well can!" He snarled. "I went through all sorts of trouble keeping you alive, and you're going to stay that way!" They were both hushed for a while. All Haymitch could hear was his heart thumping away in his chest. Then, to his relief, Effie retched, and vomited brutally into the toilet bowl.

His anger at her disappeared at that moment, and he rubbed her back, lightly.

"That's it. That's right, Princess. Get it all out." He winced as Effie coughed and spluttered a bit more, before she finally raised her head.

"I'm...I'm done." She whimpered. Haymitch flushed the mess, as Peeta entered the bathroom with a glass of water.

"Katniss is downstairs on the phone to her mom." Peeta told him – there was worry in his eyes. "Hopefully Effie will be fine now she's thrown it all up, but we're just making sure." Haymitch nodded, watching as Effie took small sips of the water. She did appear to have more colour in her cheeks.

He didn't even know that Effie had the pills; if he had, he would have taken them from her. Then again, even if he did know about her medication, he'd never fathomed her doing something stupid like this.

Though Effie had been full of surprises lately.

The three of them didn't speak for what seemed like an eternity, before Katniss appeared in the doorway.

"My mom said if she's been sick, then she should be okay. You'll have to check her temperature every couple of hours. If it's high again, you'll have to get her a doctor." Haymitch grumbled something incoherent, and helped Effie to her feet. She could barely stand.

He lifted her into his arms again. She wasn't heavy, but he didn't want to make this a habit.

"You could stay with us tonight, if you want." Peeta suggested. "Then you won't have to travel so far if she needs us." Haymitch dismissed the idea instantaneously – He knew that Katniss and Peeta wouldn't let him drink in their house, and he couldn't go a whole night without liquor.

"That's fine, Peeta. I'll take it from here."

-x-x-x-x-

Haymitch sat down beside the bed, his arms folded, as he watched Effie play with a lock of her blonde hair.

They had returned home from Peeta's house around thirty minutes ago, and Haymitch had managed to convince Effie to get into bed, though she didn't look like she was going to sleep anytime soon.

Her fever was down, and she looked a lot better, so may as well strike up a conversation.

"Why?" The first question that came to mind. He wanted to know why she did it. Whether she did it by accident or deliberately. He just wanted to know.

An awkward silence followed.

"The hospital gave them to me. I didn't take them at first. Then when you brought me here, I tried to see if they worked. They did...but every time I took a dose, I'd need more. I needed more today, before we left. I didn't mean to make myself ill. I just wanted to stop feeling so...so..." She trailed off, rubbing at one of her eyes.

"So you didn't do it to try and end your life, then?" Haymitch asked, simply. Effie hesitated.

"I don't know anymore...I just wanted to stop thinking." He wanted to be angry with her, but he couldn't be. How many times did he just want to stop thinking? He turned to alcohol. Effie tried another method.

"You're alright. That's all that matters." He pushed her gently to lie down. "You need sleep."

Effie seemed to be battling with the urge to sleep. She was trying to keep her eyes open, too afraid to close them and suffer the nightmares that followed.

"Hold my hand..." She murmured. Haymitch nibbled his bottom lip, and took her hand into his.

"Now go to sleep."

Still, Effie continued to fight her exhaustion. He didn't know whether her body just gave up, or because he was there, but she eventually she lost the fight, and her eyes closed slowly.

He carefully released her grip on his hand, and went to get a few bottles of liquor, and some blankets to make a bed for himself on the floor, next to her.

He grabbed a few bottles of whiskey and the bedding, trying to be as fast as he could as he did it. If she woke up alone...

But when he returned, Effie was still fast asleep.

With an exhausted sigh, he settled on the floor next to her with his precious bottle of whiskey.

This was going to be a long night.

**Author's Note:- Well here you go! Not sure if I'm happy with this or not, but as long as you all like it, that's all that matters! **

**Please review, and all that good stuff! I just love it when you do!**

**See you in Chapter Six!**

**x**


	6. Six - Effie

**Author's Note:- Oh my God, guys! I'm so sorry about not being around for the past few months. My life has been so busy and hectic! Because of my studies and work, the only time I've got to upload is the weekends, so I'm trying to get back into weekly updates again. I won't promise anything in case I can't deliver, but I'll try my very best!**

**So here's Chapter Six - I really hope it makes sense! I started it months ago, before I got busy, and I've only just found the time to finish it! I hope you like it, even if it's not the best I've ever written.**

"_Effie..." _

_Her eyes snapped open, and the first thing she experienced was the pain from the night before. But mixed with the pain, was curiosity; it was the voice again. The voice from the other side of the wall; the one that she was certain she recognised, but she just couldn't attach the voice to a name...or a face, for that matter._

_Effie turned her head slightly towards the door, making sure that a guard wasn't there, waiting with a whip in hand, she slid on her bare stomach closer to the wall, and pressed her ear against it._

"_I'm here...what is it?" There was no answer. Her heart was beating uncomfortably in her chest – her next words came out in a high pitched whisper. She was crying. "Are you there?"_

_Once again, she was met with silence. Not for long, however, because the next thing she heard from the cell were a thud of flesh against flesh, and an ear-splitting scream of agony. _

"Effie! Wake up, sweetheart, come on!" She felt Haymitch shaking her shoulder, and the scream coming from her own mouth silenced. She swallowed a few gulps of air, and tried to steady her breathing. As she began to calm down, she felt Haymitch's hand slide off her shoulder, and then heard a small thud as he settled back on the floor.

Once she was sure her breathing was relatively steady again, she sat up. She saw instantly that Haymitch had made a bed for himself out of a pile of blankets on the floor. The gesture would have touched her, if she wasn't so unsettled by her nightmare.

"You stayed?" She murmured, so quietly that she wasn't sure whether Haymitch heard her or not, but to her surprise, he answered.

"Yeah, sweetheart, I stayed." Effie felt a small sense of disappointment, when she saw that Haymitch was surrounded by several empty bottles of whiskey. "And a good thing, too, apparently. You were restless for a good ten minutes before you started screaming your head off. What were you dreaming about?"

She opened her mouth to answer, but truth be told, she didn't want to tell him what she had been dreaming about. She was enough of a burden to him as it was, after last night's...events. She didn't want to trouble him with anything else.

"Nothing..." Haymitch didn't say anything, much to her relief. She'd almost expected him to bully her into telling him the truth. She glanced towards the window – it was getting light outside, so it must have been at least 4.30 in the morning; she normally rose early, so anywhere from 4.30 onwards wasn't unusual for her. Now she had an excuse for not going back to sleep.

She slid out of bed and into the bathroom without any complaint from Haymitch. An hour later, when she left the bathroom, washed, dressed and make up on, Haymitch was exactly where she had left him; on the floor, nursing a bottle of whiskey. Though this time, she was sure it was a different bottle. He looked up and stared at her – his eyes were glazed over.

"Where are you going? You're supposed to be resting. You're sick." Effie grumbled, as she slung her handbag over her shoulder. Frankly, she still didn't feel all that good, but she didn't want to let an unfortunate turn of events leave her looking weak. She was going to plod on, like she usually did.

"I accidentally took one too many pills, Haymitch, I'm fine." She told him, in a high, superior voice. "Now, unlike you, I have a very _very_ big day today."

Haymitch snorted, which made Effie wrinkle her nose in distaste.

"Doing what?"

"I'm going to help Peeta at the bakery."

-x-

A bell within the bakery tinkled as Effie opened the door and stepped inside. It was too early in the morning for the bakery to be 'properly' open yet, so Effie was pleasantly surprised that the door was unlocked, and hadn't been forced to stand out in the cold...or go back to Haymitch's house.

She heard footsteps making her way towards her, and Peeta appeared from a narrow hallway, presumably leading towards the kitchen. He raised his eyebrows in surprise.

"Effie...How are you feeling?" Effie managed what she thought was a genuine smile – Peeta didn't look convinced, though.

"I'm perfectly fine, Peeta. I came to help you today." She had neglected to tell Haymitch that Peeta hadn't asked her to help at the bakery...she just wanted to feel useful. Especially after the scene she caused the night before. Peeta looked stunned at her statement at first, but he smiled after a few, tense moments.

"Okay." He trailed off; He appeared to be struggling to think of something that Effie could do that she was strong enough for, and jobs that wouldn't get her dirty. Effie chewed her lip, sensing Peeta's discomfort.

"I can do anything...I'm stronger than I look. I mean maybe I can't do a lot of the heavy lifting, but I'm sure there's _something _I could do." She pleaded, sounding desperate.

"Well…You could help me make the dough…." Peeta said, slowly, evidently not wanting to give Effie any cleaning responsibilities. Not that she wouldn't be good at it, but he evidently wanted her to do something more enjoyable.

Effie had never made anything from scratch before, and she wasn't great shakes at cooking, but she had to admit, she was interested, and eager to learn.

"Splendid!" She responded a little too enthusiastically, but Peeta was polite enough not to raise an eyebrow. Effie had always liked Peeta – he was a sensitive, polite boy; she liked Katniss too, of course, but she had a soft spot for Peeta ; Katniss was just too impolite and surly for her liking.

The two of them spent the next twenty minutes preparing the dough, Peeta guiding Effie, and the pair only spoke when Peeta was giving an instruction. Around twenty minutes after they began, Effie decided that she should fill the awkward silence.

"So, Peeta...how have you been bearing up?" Effie had half expected him to stiffen and attempt to change the subject, but to her surprise, he didn't even look up from his work, nor look shocked by her question; instead, he shrugged his shoulders in a casual manner, and answered her in a steady voice:

"Good days and bad days, y'know, but I'm a lot better than I was a few weeks ago. If my thoughts get distorted, I can usually rely on Katniss to clear things up for me...though I'm more worried about her right now than I am about me...after losing Prim and everything." He sighed, and pounded the lump of dough so hard that it made Effie jump. Seeing the expression on her face, Peeta chuckled.

"You should try this sometime, Effie. It's a much better medicine than anything the Capitol has to offer, and it works faster, too." Effie knitted her eyebrows together, looking confused.

"You mean punching the living daylights out of some dough actually helps you?"

"Not just punching the dough. Baking in general. It calms me down. So does painting." He turned the flatter piece of dough onto its other side, and struck it hard, again. "I guess everyone has something they like to do to de-stress – Portia told me once that she liked to design outfits to calm herself down."

Effie felt her heart sink at the mention of Portia – Portia had been the only true friend she had. She had other friends, of course, but they hadn't even bothered with her since she was released from the hospital. She probably didn't even cross their minds anymore; she would have crossed Portia's, she was sure of it. But Portia was dead.

"Yes, I know." Effie nodded, "Drawing was Portia's outlet ever since we were little girls. She didn't just draw outfits; she drew anything and everything." She was unable to refrain from grimacing; talking about Portia was painful.

The two were silent again for a few seconds, but this time, it was Peeta who broke it.

"I miss her too. She was very nice to me..." He trailed off. Effie couldn't help being annoyed at him – He didn't know Portia, not really. She had been his stylist, and she, Effie, had known Portia for most of her life. There was no one that could miss that woman more than her.

Instead, she took a deep breath, and said:

"I know you do, Peeta."

-x-x-

Effie didn't leave the bakery until it was almost dark. Not that it mattered what time it was, of course. Haymitch would have spent the day doing what he usually did – drinking himself into a stupor; he wasn't going to worry about her.

She opened the door to Haymitch's house, and wrinkled her nose as the pungent scent of alcohol and sweat instantly reached her nostrils – she was never going to get used to that. She wiped her feet and turned to go to the living room, but instead, she was met by Haymitch, looking more sober than he had been before she left this morning, and standing at the bottom of the stairs, packed suitcases surrounding him.

The first thing she felt was confused, and then worried. Those suitcases were definitely hers...they were pink. Did this mean that he was throwing her out?

"What's going on...?" She dared herself to ask, though not really wanting to hear the answer.

"You need help." Haymitch stated, shortly. Effie began to panic.

"I don't...it was an accident...I don't need help, Haymitch! I'm fine!" Haymitch glared at her, and she silenced. It seemed that she was leaving whether she liked it or not – Haymitch's mind was extremely hard to change once it was made up.

"Do you ever shut up, Trinket?" He growled, before doing something completely unexpected – he dropped his own duffle bag next to her many suitcases. "I packed for you. It's not up to your obsessive compulsive standard, but you weren't here, and we don't have a lot of time."

"What are you talking about, Haymitch?" Effie frowned.

"We're going to District Four." Effie had to do a double take to make sure she'd heard right.

"Did you just say 'we'?"

"Yes, Trinket." He replied. "We."

**Author's Note:- Well here you go! And I'm not going to take credit for the District Four idea...the idea was thought up by Gdreams, in a review! Again, I know it's not my best work, but I hope you like it anyway.**

**I've got ideas for the vacation in District Four, so please stay tuned! Again, thank you to Gdreams for giving me the idea.**

**Please leave a review! They're full of smiles and sunshine and rainbows! x**


	7. Seven - Haymitch

**Author's Note:- Hi, guys! At least I didn't make you wait as long as last time, right? This chapter is slightly shorter than the others, because I have something planned for the next one! I hope you'll like it! But...in the meantime, I wanted to give you an update. Things have been so busy, and I've only had a few minutes here and there to write, and even less time to edit, so please forgive any mistakes!**

**Anyway, enjoy!**

The fresh, salt air was like a slap in the face to Haymitch. Normally, he wouldn't have minded it, but he hadn't had a drink in at least two hours, so his cravings were getting to him. He had spent the majority of the train journey from Twelve drinking, and, unable to take his growing drunkenness anymore, Effie had requested that Haymitch should not be served, or allowed to help himself to anymore alcohol. Meddlesome woman.

Grumbling, he half walked, half stumbled to the front door of Annie Odair's house, and knocked – he and Effie would be staying with her for the duration of their visit to Four, something that Haymitch was grateful of – he wasn't sure how much longer he would have been able to share accommodation with Effie without Annie there to keep her out of his way whilst he snuck off to drink.

Barely three seconds passed before Annie opened the door, grinning from ear to ear.

"Haymitch! Effie!" Annie squealed, before wrapping her arms around Effie and hugging her tightly. Haymitch was amused to see that Effie had not been expecting this, and she looked a little uncomfortable. Pulling away after a few seconds, Annie stepped aside to allow them through the front door.

"I'm sorry about the mess. There isn't much time for cleaning, with a baby to look after." Oh yeah, Annie had given birth two weeks ago, and she didn't look too bad, in Haymitch's opinion; she still looked bigger than she did before she was pregnant, but no one could expect her to lose the baby weight after just two weeks.

"It's fine." Haymitch grunted. The house was perfectly clean, aside from some bibs and baby toys lying around. In any case, the state of the house was the last thing on his mind right now. "Don't have any whiskey, do ya, sweetheart?" Annie simply frowned at him, crossing her arms.

"I don't keep alcohol in the house, Haymitch. Especially not around Finn." Haymitch growled, getting cantankerous.

"Then what am I meant to do!? I've been two fu-." He was cut off by an infant's cries, coming from the baby monitor clipped onto Annie's jeans. Annie disappeared with a sigh, and returned with a tiny baby boy, wrapped in a blue blanket. Without even stopping to think about it, Haymitch moved closer to get a better look. He had to admit, he was a pretty cute kid. He was the spitting image of his father, but he had Annie's ears. He opened his mouth to communicate this, but a gasp from Effie interrupted him.

"Oh, he's gorgeous, Annie! Just gorgeous!" Effie cooed at the baby boy. Haymitch rolled his eyes, though he had been expecting that, after all. Women were supposed to like babies.

"Thank you, Effie. Would you like to hold him?" Effie stiffened at the offer of a cuddle with the baby, which Haymitch had to laugh at.

"Not scared of a little baby, are you, Trinket?" Effie narrowed her eyes, taking a step back from the child.

"I am not scared of babies, Haymitch! I'm just...I'm wearing a nice outfit...and he might vomit on it." Chuckling to himself, Haymitch held his arms out for the baby, but Annie looked hesitant.

"Are you sober?" She asked, looking worried. Haymitch simply nodded – he wasn't completely sober, but perhaps Annie would feel better if he sat down, so he walked to the living room and sat down. Annie nibbled her bottom lip briefly, before placing the baby in his arms.

He smirked, smugly to himself, as he held the baby like an expert. His grin simply broadened when he saw that Effie had noticed this.

"Why do you look so shocked, Trinket? Never seen a man hold a baby before?" Effie merely shook her head, slowly, waiting a few, long moments, before answering him.

"I just didn't think you were a baby person, Haymitch…."

"Well…I'm not." He responded, truthfully. "But I practically raised my brother after my dad died. I know a lot about babies." He looked away from Effie and glanced down at baby Finn, who was now awake, and gazing up at the new friend, who was holding him.

He never talked about his family, and he had no idea why he had decided to open his big mouth and mention them now. He just wanted the ground to open up and swallow him. Luckily, Annie changed the subject at that moment.

"So…." Annie cleared her throat, awkwardly, before turning to Effie. "Tomorrow you'll be seeing the same doctor as me…her name's Orielle; She's really nice. You'll like her." Effie looked like she had reservations, and Haymitch couldn't _really _blame her; if someone had sent him to a shrink, he wouldn't be happy either, but it was what was best for Effie.

"I still firmly believe that I don't need a therapist, Annie." Effie told the younger woman, in a haughty tone.

"Well..." Annie paused for the space of a heartbeat, "Just give her a chance. She's not like other therapists – she'll genuinely care about you and your wellbeing." Haymitch grunted, which he quickly covered with a cough. Therapists didn't care about anything but their pay check, in his opinion. Maybe a District Four therapist would be different, in comparison to a Capitol one, but he would have to wait and see.

The three of them were silent for several minutes, the silence only being broken from the occasional grunt or whimper from baby Finn. As Haymitch expected she eventually would, Effie broke the silent.

"Where will we be sleeping, Annie?" Annie looked dumbfounded, shocked that she could forget such a thing. Haymitch smirked to himself – perhaps women DID deliver their brain with the afterbirth.

"I completely forgot!" Annie squeaked, getting to her feet and taking the baby from Haymitch's arms. He couldn't help but feel disheartened that Annie had taken the baby from him, for he noticed that he hadn't even thought about alcohol for the whole time he was holding the baby. That was most likely because his hands were literally full. "Let me show you."

Annie led them up a flight of stairs, up to the upper floor of the house. She came to a door on the right, and opened it. Inside was a perfectly clean and neat little room, with a single bed against the wall, and...a blow up mattress on the floor? Seeing the look on Haymitch's face, Annie started to explain.

"I've been so busy with Finn, and people kept making and buying things for me, and then there was the clutter I already had, so I don't have another spare room..." She looked worried, even more so when Effie gave her a look of horror.

"You mean...?"

"Yes. You will be sharing a room."

-x-

Grumbling, Haymitch stumbled through the front door, feeling his way to the staircase in the dark. He had left Annie's house several hours ago, in search of some alcohol, because he couldn't stand the withdrawal anymore. He had made himself scarce for as long as he could, and he had used that time to get pretty drunk. His plan had worked though – he had left it until the last possible moment to come back, for it guaranteed that everyone would be asleep, and he was right.

He eventually managed to reach the top of the stairs, without making too much noise. He headed towards the room that he and Effie had been allocated, and groaned when he saw light flooding under the crack between the door and the floor – Trinket was still awake, and waiting to give him a two hour lecture, surely.

He shouldered the door open, and went inside. To his relief, Effie was fast asleep, laying on her stomach, on top of something that looked like one of the notebooks that she used to write her schedules in. Grinning evily to himself, Haymitch carefully pulled the notebook from under Effie's body, and looked at the page it was already open at.

It wasn't a schedule that she had written, however; it was a diary entry. So Trinket kept a diary, huh? This would be entertaining. Sitting down to make himself more comfortable, he began to read:

_Things would be so much easier if Portia were here. She used to be able to interpret Haymitch's mood swings in a way that worked in my favour. She could tell exactly how Peeta felt about Katniss. She __was just good at reading people. Now I'm on my own. It's so confusing. Sometimes he can be lovely...I wouldn't go as far as gentlemanly, but he does sometimes show that he does care for other people, other than himself. Sometimes I think he even cares for me. Underneath all of his hatred of me, there's a part of him that cares. Then other days, when he's drunk and yelling, and calling me every name under the sun, I feel like something he wiped of his shoe. He makes me feel like nothing, and I'm left on my own, with no one to talk to, no one to comfort me. _

_Sometimes I wonder if it would be better for me to get out of his life, but...as ludicrous as it sounds, I can't manage without him. He's not much use when he's drunk, and he's drunk 99% of the time, but he was someone to talk to. Those weeks alone in the Capitol were horrendous, and he doesn't even know how relieved I was when he asked me to go to Twelve with him._

_He was nice to me for a while, and then he changes. It's like he has two personalities: his nice side and his atrocious side. Maybe if I told him the truth about_

But that was where the entry stopped. She must have fallen asleep while writing it. Haymitch immediately felt the urge to wake her up and ask her what she should have told him the truth about, but as he was about to shake her shoulder, he discovered that he didn't have the heart to do it. Instead, he pulled the blankets up to the back of her neck, freezing as she stirred a little, but he sighed with relief as she snuggled into the warmth of the blankets and slept on.

Sighing, he turned the light off and lay down on his mattress on the floor, taking small sips of the vodka he had brought back with him, until he lost consciousness.

He only woke up once that night, and that was only because he was certain that he felt Effie lay on the floor beside him.

**Author's Note:- Well there you go! Bad, Haymitch, though! Reading Effie's diary! She'll kill him when/if she finds out. **

**Anyway, as I said, I have a surprise for the next chapter. Well...I don't know if it will come as a surprise, but I hope you'll like it, at least!**

**Remember, reviews are welcome, and the more reviews I get, the more motivated I am to keep going! So...no pressure. Tehe.**

**See you in Chapter Eight! **

**x**


	8. Eight - Effie

**Author's Note:- Once again, time seems to be against me, so I had to hurry this chapter along and get it published, or I feared it would be another long wait for an update. **

**I hope you like it though! I do try and find time in order to upload some stuff for you all. :) Thank you for all of the positive reviews I got on the last chapter! I'm so glad that you're enjoying the story. I'm enjoying writing it, which is why I wish I didn't have so much other stuff to do. :( **

**Anyway, here you go!**

Orielle was late, and in Effie's opinion, this wasn't a good start.

Not only could she not accept people being late, for it disrupted her own schedule, but she hadn't wanted to come here in the first place. She had much better things to do with her time – she could have been going shopping in the small market in District Four, or helping Annie with baby Finn. She almost hadn't come, actually, but Haymitch had forced her. In fact, he even offered to go with her; Effie wasn't sure whether this was out of compassion, or whether Haymitch just wanted to make sure she actually went to her appointment.

Haymitch hadn't been allowed into the consultation room, so, to Effie's mild discontent, he was waiting outside.

Effie had been debating leaving, and telling Haymitch that Orielle hadn't turned up, when the door opened with a loud creak, startling Effie and causing her to look rapidly behind her shoulder.

"I'm sorry I'm late." The young woman smiled, feebly, sensing Effie's nerves. "I had a bit of an emergency…well let's just say, it involved my two year old and toilet training."

Orielle was a relatively pretty woman – she had shoulder length red hair, which Effie was sure looked even more stunning when the sun shone on it; she had pale blue eyes, and was wearing a simple, blue sundress. Effie would never have worn an outfit of such plainness, for she didn't believe it was a good look for her, but on Orielle, it was very lovely.

"It's quite alright…." Effie mumbled, after taking a few short seconds in which to intake Orielle's appearance. "I just hope that you washed your hands before you came to work." She felt uncomfortable as soon as she said it…she felt rude, even…but it was the truth, and it was rude not to tell the truth, right?

Chuckling, Orielle sat behind her desk, and looked over some paperwork, before looking up at Effie and giving her another kindly smile.

"Effie Trinket, yes?" Effie nodded, silently. She was certain that Orielle already knew who she was – how could she not? She had been appearing on the television for years, and not for a reason that someone such as Orielle would admire. She was surprised, however, they Orielle was being so pleasant to her…if she, Effie, were in Oriel's shoes, she would have given her an earful.

After she had provided Orielle with her date and place of birth, Effie decided to get straight to the point.

"I really don't think I need to be here. I'm absolutely fine. I'm sure you're a very nice lady, and I appreciate how much help you've given Annie, but I'm afraid you would be wasting your time with me. I don't need help." She had explained herself with as much self-assurance as she could muster, but the slight trembling in her voice was letting her down.

"Well…I was alerted because your friends are worried about you. They fear that you're not coping with things as well as you think you are." Effie released a long, exasperated sigh. She had been hoping that Orielle would accept her speech for what it was, and send her on her way, but that apparently wasn't going to be the case.

"Yes well…that's sweet of them…but they have no idea what goes on inside my head."

"And what does go on inside your head, Effie?" Orielle asked, delicately. Effie shook her head and shrugged, attempting to look unconcerned.

"I wake up in the morning, decide what I'm going to do for the day, be it shopping, cleaning the house, reading a book, or whatever takes my fancy, and then I go to sleep. I'm just a normal person."

"Do you have nightmares?" The question made Effie harden – it had caught her off guard.

"Occasionally…but doesn't everyone?" She replied, coldly, and defensively.

"Well…yes…." Orielle answered, vigilantly. "But yours…are they severe…frequent…?" Effie didn't answer her straight away. She wanted to tell the truth, but she didn't want to talk about the nightmares, especially to someone she had only just met, so she decided to lie instead.

"No."

Though she wasn't looking at her, Effie heard Orielle sigh.

"Mr. Abernathy was telling me about your friend…she died during the war, didn't she? Portia?" Feeling the anger boiling up inside of her, Effie's head snapped up and her eyes narrowed hazardously at Orielle.

"_Mister _Abernathy needs to learn to mind his own business." An awkward silence followed, but Orielle, apparently not giving up on getting through to Effie yet, asked another question.

"Were you close?" Effie looked away again, blinking back the tears, which were stinging her eyes and threatening to fall.

"Yes, we were close…."

"I get the feeling that you don't want to talk about her anymore…." Effie said nothing…she just nodded, in agreement. "Maybe another time." Effie huffed.

"I don't think there'll be a next time." Effie stood up. She couldn't take this anymore. Seeing the things she saw in her nightmares was bad enough. Having to talk about them was even worse.

To Effie's relief, but also astonishment, Orielle didn't even try to stop her from leaving.

"I hope to see you again, Miss Trinket. Mr. Abernathy in particular is very concerned about you."

Effie turned on her heel and left, without another word.

-x-

As soon as he'd seen that Effie had left the consultation room, Haymitch was on his feet in seconds, but Effie really wasn't in the mood to talk to him. How dare he tell Orielle about her personal business, concerned or not?

"How did it go?" Haymitch began to ask, but Effie had already swept past him, not looking back. She heard Haymitch following her, and felt his gaze burning into her back. Yet, she still didn't talk to him. "What, are you ignoring me now?" Haymitch sounded slightly amused, which was enough to make Effie stop and turn around.

"Why did you tell her about Portia!? You know I don't like to talk about it, and now she's trying to get information out of me!" Haymitch chuckled.

"Well, that is the point of therapy, sweetheart. Besides, I didn't tell her anything incriminating. We were talking, and she asked me if you had anyone to talk to, and I mentioned how friendly you used to be with Portia…it's not like I ever saw you talk to anyone else…except me, of course." He smirked, smugly. Clenching her fists at her sides, Effie replied through gritted teeth.

"Well I don't want to talk about Portia, or about any of the others who died! They're dead and I'm alive, and I hate it! They were good people, and had their whole lives against them! Portia and Cinna had so many plans, so many dreams, and they never got the life they wanted! And Prim…she was thirteen, Haymitch! I don't understand why I'm still alive, when this whole thing is partly my fault! I'm the one who should be dead! Not Portia! Not Cinna, or Finnick, or…or…" she trailed off, and started sobbing; her anger had all but evaporated.

It took almost a whole minute for Haymitch to get over his awkwardness and pull Effie into his arms.

"Don't cry, Princess. Nothing was your fault. You should be happy that you're alive…I know it's hard, losing friends…but everyone's lost someone in this war…and you have me." Effie hesitated, before wrapping her arms around his waist, returning his hug.

"I know I have you…but we don't have anything in common. I can't talk to you about things I used to talk about with Portia…." Effie pulled away, wiping her nose. She had realised how lost she was without, for a lack of a better phrase, someone of her own kind to talk to. Portia knew what it was like to grow up in the Capitol, and although Effie had always known she had disagreements with them, Portia didn't slaughter the Capitol the way Haymitch did. Not in front of Effie, anyway. And plus, shopping expeditions were just no fun without Portia. Even though she had Haymitch now, that was only when it suited him, and he wasn't by any means stress-free to talk to.

Haymitch was quiet for a while, so Effie supposed that he didn't know what to say. Haymitch didn't know what it was like to have friends, to be perfectly honest.

"I know what will make you feel better." Haymitch finally spoke, causing Effie to look away and look up at him.

"What?"

"Ever been to a beach before, Trinket?"

-x-x-

Effie had thought she'd been to the beach before…but it was a Capitol beach. In other words, it was an indoor, artificial beach. It wasn't the real thing, but it was just as good to her. Those beaches could be visited all year round, which was highly convenient. They had been one of her favourite places to visit as a child.

The real thing was so…different. For one, the air smelled different. It smelled like salt, rather than some nasty chemical that generally came in Capitol leisure centres. The water was cold at first, but once she was used to it, Effie didn't want to get out.

She smirked over at Haymitch, who clearly looked like he was regretting his beach suggestion. They had been here a couple of hours, and it had taken half of that time for Effie to feel brave enough to put one toe in the water, but she'd found peace, being here. She was still hurting, but this showed her that there were things in the world that could make her feel better. But it looked like Haymitch was eager to go and get some alcohol.

"Can we go now?" Haymitch groaned, impatiently. Effie pouted playfully at him.

"You'll have to come in and get me." She teased. Truthfully, the water was getting cold again, and her fingers were shrivelling up like ugly prunes…but teasing Haymitch when she was in the water, and he, nice and dry, had a certain appeal to it.

"No, I'm not. I'll get wet." Effie raised an eyebrow.

"Since when did you care about anything other than alcohol, Haymitch? You go if you want. I'm staying. You can think out here, and I like it."

"You do know that too much thinking is a bad thing, right, Effs?" Haymitch shook his head, but he was smiling weakly.

"Well, that's the deal. I'm not coming unless you physically have to drag me out of here yourself." With a shrug, Haymitch turned on his heel, and started to walk away. Effie raised her eyebrows in surprise, but the surprise didn't last long, because within seconds, Haymitch had turned back to face her, and was running, full pelt into the water.

With a scream, Effie attempted to run away, but Haymitch had caught hold of her waist, and lifted her high above the surface of the water.

Effie continued screaming, but she wasn't afraid…she was having fun.

"Haymitch, put me down!" She shrieked, as he began to carry her to dry land.

"Nope." Haymitch laughed, and then yelped. He must have tripped over some seaweed or something, because he stumbled, and fell to the ground, Effie landing on top of him.

Effie stiffened, in fear that Haymitch was going to become angry and hostile, but instead, their eyes met. Her heart seemed to stop for several seconds, and before she could help herself, she had leaned in and kissed him, placing one of her hands against the stubble on his cheek.

And he was kissing her back, deepening the kiss as he ran his own hands all over her body.

Eventually, when he needed to come up for air, he pulled away. He was smiling.

"Let's go somewhere more private."

**Author's Note:- I've been waiting for so many chapters for them to kiss, and it finally happened! :D I wasn't sure if I liked the way I wrote the kiss scene...sort of spontaneous and neither were really expecting it, which I think is nice. **

**I hope you enjoyed it. I'd love some more reviews! They make my day everytime I get one!**

**See you in Chapter Nine! **

**x**


	9. Nine - Haymitch

**Author's Note:- I know, a lot of people have been asking me to update this, and I felt terrible for taking so long, so I decided to ignore my homework today and deliver! It's shorter than I expected it to be, but the chapter went as I had planned it to, so I'm hoping that will make up for the lack in length.**

**So here it is, finally! Chapter Nine! I hope you enjoy reading it!**

Their bedroom at Annie's house was about as private as they were going to get, so that was where Haymitch took her.

He carried her up the stairs and to their room, kicking the door shut and laying Effie gently on top of the bed. Wasting no time, he clambered on top of her, and whilst kissing her neck, he proceeded to take off what she was wearing; one of his shirts, and her underwear, which of course, she wouldn't mind getting wet. He only pulled away when he felt her become rigid underneath him.

"Are you alright?" He whispered. He was expecting her to tell him to stop, and he couldn't really blame her. Her last sexual experience couldn't have been very nice for her, and it was sure to bring back bad memories.

"Yes…." Effie breathed, after a few moments of silence. She took in another two breaths of air, before stating. "Don't stop."

Smiling, Haymitch continued to remove the shirt of his that he was wearing. If he was honest, he had slept with a lot of women in his time. Not by choice, of course. He was a victor, and it was his 'duty'. Effie was the only Capitol citizen who he would fuck quite willingly – not that he ever told her that, nor would he use those words if he did; he could have done without the risk of getting a long lecture about the impoliteness of swearing and crude talk about sex.

His heart skipped a beat when he removed her bra and saw her breast. They weren't too big, not too small…they fitted perfectly into his hand. The best part about them was that they were completely, one hundred perfect natural, which was very rare for any woman that was born and raised in the Capitol. Around two thirds of the women population in the Capitol had had, or were planning to have, breast enhancement surgery of some sort. He leaned down and ran his lip over her smooth skin, his stubble lightly rubbing against her. Effie released some sort of moan, which Haymitch took to be pleasure, as he took one of her nipples into his mouth and sucked, gradually.

"Haymitch…" Effie gasped in disbelief, and wrapped her arms around his neck, her nails digging into the skin on his shoulder blade. "Stop…stop torturing me. I need you so bad…." Letting out a low chuckle, Haymitch continued to kiss over Effie's chest and stomach area, but he left her panties on.

"Not yet, Princess. This is payback for all the times you chewed my ear off for one thing or another." He smirked in satisfaction as Effie made a small 'hmph' noise of displeasure.

After around twenty minutes of foreplay, Haymitch looked up, and into Effie's eyes, his own now showing apprehension.

"Are you sure you're ready for this, sweetheart?" Her panties were now off, and he was ready to enter her, but first, he wanted to make sure that this was what she truly wanted.

"Yes, Haymitch. I'm ready." Effie alleged, before kissing his lips again.

-x-

He wrapped his arms tighter around Effie as she snuggled into his naked body, resting her chest on his chest. He smiled wryly to himself. It had appeared that he had tired her out.

"So, I take it you'd never had a real man before now, Trinket?" He scoffed. He couldn't see, for it was dark, but he had the feeling that Effie had rolled her eyes at him, so he continued. "Well, what was it like? In comparison to a Capitol man, I mean."

"I don't know…." He felt Effie shrug. "You were just…different. Rougher…but not enough to hurt me. Just…not as afraid of breaking me, I guess." Haymitch nodded, deciding not to question her further, for he could hear the discomfort in Effie's voice as she spoke about it.

After a while, he felt Effie's muscles relax and her breathing deepen. He just lay there, staring up at the ceiling. All of a sudden, he felt sick to his stomach.

There was no way that he could love this woman…not in the way that he wanted to. Everyone else he had ever loved, he had gotten killed. Even though the Games were over, how could he be positive that the same thing wouldn't happen to Effie? It almost had, once, and he blamed himself, and that was when he thought he had no feelings for her. But now…now he'd slept with her, he was terrified of losing her. Apart from Katniss and Peeta, she was the only friend he had left, and despite how annoying she could be, they had been through a lot together.

Suddenly feeling the need to have a stiff drink, Haymitch slowly eased Effie off him, so as not to wake her, and he left the bedroom, making his way downstairs, where he had cleverly hidden an almost full bottle of liquor.

He spent the next few hours sitting in the dark, drinking from his bottle of whiskey, encasing himself in his own thoughts. By the time the sun came up, he had come to the conclusion that for Effie's own safety, he would have to distance himself from her. He knew it would upset her, after everything that happened last night, but he couldn't have someone else die because of him. Not again.

With an exhausted sigh, he heaved himself to his feet, and turned to go back to bed. His heart skipped several beats when he saw Effie there in her dressing gown, staring at him. The look on her face told him that she must have been reading his mind.

"You regret it, don't you?" She whispered, before turning her back and disappearing upstairs again.

**Author's Note:- Damn, Haymitch, make up your mind! Haha. But yes, I do understand why he regrets what happened. Poor Effie though! **

**I'm not sure when Chapter Ten will be out, but it WILL come eventually! I'm hoping it won't be as long as last time!**

**As always, please review, and see you next chapter! x**


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